Paving Roads
by Madelgine
Summary: These roads are paved with good intentions... mostly. Chapter 3 features Rogue and Shadowcat, and introduces a few comic canons whose motivations really need to be questioned. Rating is just to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own X-Men Evolution. If I did, you could bet Gambit would have his TAS hair back.

**A/N:** Gosh I hope this doesn't come out all warped...

* * *

The Borrower

You can't help everyone. Sometimes, in helping one person, you manage to hurt another. Just like in hurting one person you may in fact help another. If you hurt everyone, you will help no one. But in trying to help everyone, you won't be able to avoid hurting someone. Not forever. There lies the difference.

You can't help everyone.

* * *

The alleged baby of the New Mutant team, Jamie Madrox, was now thoroughly used to the high school routine, and consequently tired of it. As he dangled off the end of his bed, chewed pencil hanging from between his teeth, contemplating his algebra homework and finding it made as little sense upside-down as right side up, he probably would have preferred to be doing anything else, right up until Cyclops buzzed him with a reminder that it was his turn to train with Rogue.

'Urgh... I forgot,' he groaned, hauling himself upright and leaning over to activate the two-way communication link. 'Do I have to?'

'Come on Multiple,' Scott's voice buoyed over the intercom. 'An hour or so's training won't kill you.'

'No, it'll just leave me unconscious for the rest of the day,' Jamie grumbled back.

'The whole point of letting Rogue practice absorbing powers is so that she can refine it,' Cyclops explained with a patient but very rehearsed-sounding tone.

'She's had her powers for years, how much more refining can it take...'

'Well obviously she's improved, but it's still a lot of power to deal with. And given all the powers she can potentially borrow, it helps to be able to contr-'

'Y'know, getting knocked out sounds pretty good right about now,' Jamie put in, and deactivated the intercom. Wearing a resigned sort of grin, he made his way over to the wardrobe to retrieve his uniform.

* * *

With no other powers to fall back on, Rogue's 'borrowing' ability, as Cyclops put it, was proving to be more and more of an asset in certain confrontational circumstances. (Read: skirmishes.) What Rogue, and in fact a great deal of the X-Men feared, was that she might one day do serious damage to herself or someone she absorbed. What if she held on too long, or concentrated too hard? And then came that unbidden thought in a voiceless whisper: What if she killed? But it could not be said that this worry plagued Rogue alone. 

Everyone has their own personal demons.

Cyclops' optic blasts, sans the visor, were raw, inescapable power. Unreined weather could tear the heavens apart if Storm relinquished control over her emotions. Bestial instinct had taken over Beast once before, and despite his calm demeanour he feared the possibility of it happening again. And no one knew for sure if all of Jean's psychic capabilities had yet been tapped, and if there was a reserve in her mind with the capacity to overpower her.

Rogue disliked taking the powers of the stronger mutants. Though she inherited, to some degree, their control, it was not always strong enough to match the unbridled genetic transformation that surged through her. Searing red energy lashing from her eyes, bolts of telekinetic power pounding into the walls... She had not dared try to tackle Storm yet, and not even Professor Xavier felt inclined to encourage her to.

* * *

The team-mates awaiting energy drainage this afternoon were Multiple, Jubilee, Wolfbane and Sunspot. 

'There ain't no sunlahght in heah,' Rogue pointed out to Cyclops as he directed them into the Danger Room.

'Non-issue,' he told her. 'What I want you to do with Roberto is take away just enough energy that he's disabled, but not unconscious.'

'Aw, not that again,' she groaned. She was still having trouble getting that objective just right. 'When would Ah evah wanna keep a person disabled but concious, again?'

'When you want them to talk,' Cyclops replied levelly. 'The rest of your objective is to take Jamie and Rahne's powers- see if you can use them together- and absorb Jubilee's powers but try not to use them.'

'Great,' murmured Rogue. 'Give me the fahrworks triggahd bah emotion an' tell me not ta use 'em.'

'Hey, it's not like they're completely uncontrollable!' Jubilee said indignantly. A couple of bright firecrackers sparked from her hands right on cue.

'And what's the "objective" for the rest of us?' asked Sunspot.

Cyclops smiled the smile of those in command. 'Make it fun. This is your training as well, after all.'

* * *

As soon as the five mutants were assembled in the Danger Room, and Cyclops was secured in the Control Room, Jubilee cracked her knuckles in an anticipatory fashion. 'Fun, did he say?' she reminded everyone with a smirk. 

'She's got that look on her face again,' Rogue groaned. 'Ah think mebbe Ah'll save you 'til last, Jube...'

'First mistake is revealing your tactics to the enemy!' Jubilee laughed. There was a bright flash of light from her hands- those darned fireworks were worse than the old fashioned camera a professional photographer might wield at you. Bedazzled, Rogue stumbled a few steps backward, unable to see anything for the time being. 'Bet you didn't see that coming!'

Playing off of this disadvantage, Jamie wasted no time in scoring a nifty slide tackle that tripped Rogue up in a both efficient and amusing manner. 'Or that!' he and the clones made by the impact grinned triumphantly.

'Of course Ah didn't see that one, Clone-boy, Ah'm blahnd!' she retorted irritably. 'Hey Laser-Gaze, cain't ya get these kids to quit foolin' around?'

'No, and not for lack of trying... Go on the offensive, Rogue,' was the only help she got.

'Ah'll give ya offensive...' she grumbled, quickly rolling to one side ice and jumping back to her feet on Multiple-free ground. The effect from Jubilee's blast was wearing off, and her sight was returning in a blurred pattern of lights and darks. One of the dark shapes she managed to focus on long enough to recognise as Sunspot. She darted nimbly toward him, removing one of her gloves as she went. 'Now just come easy, Roberto-'

Roberto backed up a few paces and crouched down slightly into a fighting stance, raising his fists to block her if necessary. However, when Rogue was within a few yards of him, he chose instead to rely on- 'Rahne! Little help!'

A ginger-haired wolf sprung from nowhere, snarling enthusiastically, and collided full force with her opponent's torso. They both went flying backwards, landing with a smack on the floor some feet away. Still bearing Wolfsbane's momentum, Rogue slid over it, feeling the friction rub through the fabric of her uniform and heat her back.

'Hope none of y'all are plannin' to kick a gal while she's down!' she called as she made to grab hold of Wolfsbane's shoulder with her bare hand. But Rahne was already leaping off her, leaving Rogue to right herself once more. 'Urgh, pesky mutt.' Not letting the wolf go so easily, Rogue took a running jump into a forward flip, landing nimbly before Wolfbane and reaching down to catch her. Before her hand could make contact though, a series of small explosions erupted on her back, causing enough distraction and disturbance of balance for Rahne to slip away again. She began to reconsider not tackling Jubilee as soon as possible.

From the other side of the room, the wolf gave a series of amused sounding yips before transforming back into her human appearance. 'Will ye be leaving all the work tae us women, then, you two?' she chided the boys.

'Only because you enjoy it so much,' Jamie replied before ducking away from Rogue, who had decided to come at him next. The three multiples of his had been formed both veered out of the way too, but Rogue caught one and leap-frogged over it, landing by Jubilee, who she grabbed by the face just as the younger girl's hand stretched out to discharge more sparks of energy. She stood there, breathless, for a second after Rogue surrendered her hold, swayed on the brink of blackout, then lurched forward into her opponent's arms. Rogue set her down out of the way before turning back to the remaining three. Her fingers crackled with the absorbed powers, and she fought to keep Jubilee's abilities at bay.

* * *

'You're getting better,' Cyclops told her earnestly. 

'Thanks, Scott,' she replied wearily, before heading off to Beast's lab. He was always eager to monitor and record how long she could retain another's memories and capabilities relative to how long the contact period had been, how much force had been used and so forth. Rogue hadn't so far worked out exactly what Beast had learned from the study so far. All she could comprehend from his reports was that the time of exposure and period of retention were directly related. After that she was pretty sure he stopped using English words.

Keeping Jubilee's firecrackers down after absorbing her lifeforce had been like trying to keep a tub of chocolate ice-cream down after a teacup ride. Rogue knew it would have been easier on herself to save the fireworks shooter until last, but it was obvious that the girl was going to be a hindrance in defeating the others.

Rahne she had gone after next, in order to keep the nippy wolf from repeatedly darting in and throwing her off course. But Jamie ended up her next victim, out cold like Jubilee, though he and his clones had put up a valiant fight before she finally manage to touch skin to skin with the original Multiple.

Roberto had, as anticipated, been tricky. Not only did he fight well (and was constantly defended by Wolfsbane), but also Rogue kept holding back, not wanting to grab his skin too suddenly or forcefully. She ended up coming to him last, first using Jamie's powers to create enough copies of herself to surround and subdue Rahne. Once Wolfsbane was out, a pack of werewolf clones were at Rogue's disposal, and Sunspot didn't last long after that.

She had been aiming to take enough out of him to render him disabled. He was just that, for a few moments. He had sunk to his knees, seeming simply weak and exhausted... but still conscious. Then his strength just failed him, and he keeled over like Jubilee, Multiple and Wolfsbane had done. Rogue still needed to refine her touch. Cyclops had refrained from mentioning this to her; he was tactful enough to know not to preach. Well, sometimes, at any rate.

* * *

It was a time after the training session when a number of Jamie clones were running around the kitchen, their antics all coming together in a conglomeration of culinary art to form a very large sandwich. Rahne leaned in at the doorway, eyebrows raised. While Jamie had perked up considerably, she was still rather groggy. 'Is that yerself yer feeding there, of all o' mutantkind?' she asked. 

'Having the energy zapped from you really takes it out of you,' he replied matter-of-factly. 'Unsurprisingly.'

'Quite a show ye put on,' she commended him. 'I would've jumped in, but there was more chance of landing on a Multiple than a Rogue.'

'No worries. I think I'd rather take on Rogue than be clawed. No way am I darning patches onto half a dozen uniforms!'

Rahne gave a mild smile before turning from the room and ambling down the hall in search on a nice soft Brazilian shoulder to rest her head against.

* * *

In the rec room, Kitty was venturing into the world of video games, and consequently being virtually creamed by Bobby Drake. 

'This is so completely pointless!'

'You only say that because you keep losing,' came the smug reply.

'Duh! It's completely pointless to play something that only results in my little robot being hurled off the screen time after time!'

'Much to learn have you,' croaked Bobby.

A small but exasperated squeal escaped Kitty's throat. 'Why am I even playing this anymore?'

'Because you won't be satisfied until you beat me.'

'Oh, please. As if I'm that obsessive or simple-minded-'

'So you give up?'

'And let you off easy?' Kitty thundered. 'Prepare to be fed your own bumper!'

The door swung open unobtrusively. 'And here Ah thought someone had turned up the volume on an action movie,' she remarked quietly to the inhabitants of the rec room not engaged with video wars, namely Roberto and Sam.

'Grab a bucket of popcorn and pull up a seat,' Sam chuckled. 'This is better than a movie any day.'

Rogue perched on the arm of their sofa with the air of one not staying long. She glances down at Roberto.

'Y' okay theah?' she asked, her voice dropping even further so the tone could not be discerned.

Roberto simply nodded. 'I was up and about before the others... You're getting better at measuring how much force you use.'

'Getting better,' Rogue repeated with a sigh. 'It sure don't seem that way,' she added in an undertone that Roberto overheard.

'Only because it's gradual,' he told her confidently. 'You know, you'll surprise yourself one of these days.'

'Thanks Rob,' she murmured, turning her green eyes on the screen where Kitty's battle-bot was once more being beaten to a molten metal pulp. 'By the way,' she went on, neither raising her voice nor removing her gaze from the screen. 'Ah think mebbe y'should postpone that dinner with Rahne you're plannin'. She's got a history test on Thursday mornin', and she'll be busy studyin' for it 'til then.'

'Uh...' Roberto's cheeks heated a little, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. One of the noises that came from him during this sounded much like, 'Thanks.'

* * *

**Furth A/N:** Many thanks for reading my first foray into the realm of fandom! Here's hoping it wasn't too awful. Reviews are most assuredly welcome; it's the only way I'll learn, after all. : )

Madelgine


	2. Seeds of Power

**Disclaimer: **X-Men Evolution and all things mutated belong to the good folks at Marvel. I wish them luck. The Weavers are mine. (Wish _me_ luck.)

**A/N:** I'll admit the first chapter was a bit of tooth-cutting, getting into the groove of the X-Men Evo characters. (I haven't seen the show for a year or so, give me some credit...) This segment introduces my OC Sprig. There will be some back and forth, I think, before her path crosses the X-Men's.

* * *

Seeds of Power

'To think parents these days worry about prying there kids away from the TV. I'm beginning to wonder if she'd remember to come back inside without us reminding her...'

'She gets hungry like other kids, Alana,' her husband chuckled. 'She needs to come in for dinner.'

A small grin slid onto the woman's face as she withdrew from the window. 'True, but perhaps it's only a matter of time before she starts telling us worms are a good source of protein...'

'Don't be silly. Everyone knows worms provide carbohydrates.'

Alana let out a silvery laugh, then joined Rory at the kitchen table, allowing him to drape a bear-like arm about her shoulders. Rory was a large man, tall and broad, whom Alana had always found comfort in cuddling into. She was a stocky woman of average height and stature, with curling hair, milk chocolate skin, and kind eyes. He had a ruddy, freckled face matched by scruffy, reddish reddish brown hair and beard. Their daughter, the small girl they watched through the window as she dug at the firm earth, had Rory's cat-like green eyes, and a mop of brown hair that swung forward into her eyes all the time because it was too short to tie back properly. Her light brown skin was peppered with freckles- freckles that had turned from brown to orange to a curious pale yellow in recent years. They had seen a doctor about this, but her kindly, if somewhat perplexed, response had been that it was simply a surface appearance that bore no signs of deeper trouble. Random mutations occurred from time to time, after all. As everyone knew all too well.

'She spends more time gardening than you, now,' Alana remarked.

'Student has surpassed the teacher, an' all that,' Rory yawned. 'My back'll probably thank me for spending less time hunched over a crop of daffodils.'

* * *

Sprig liked working with her father in the garden, but there was something soothing about gardening on her own. There was just the rhythmic grinding of the hoe, or the trowel, or the fork, into the ground, and the quiet breeze that would usually pick up, breathing the sweat from her face but never penetrating the warm wool of her thick, green cardigan. And there were the plants. Of course. With them around, she was never really alone.

After preparing the soil adequately, the girl turned her attention to the treasured contents of the numerous yoghurt pots gathered on a study plastic tray on the grass beside her. Pansies. She had promised herself, or rather, her scant purse, that she would cut back on the amount of flowers she purchased. Besides, as her father had jovially pointed out, the garden would be getting crowded soon if she didn't let up. But flowers were like a collection with her. Just one more, she would think. She still loved the ones she had planted ages ago, back when her dad was showing her how it was done. But when a child gets a new toy or pet, she is utterly enraptured with it, from the time she glimpses it in the shop until she finally drifts back down to earth, and the rapture becomes a more sensible kind of love.

She glanced skyward, taking in the greying clouds with satisfaction. It would rain soon, and her babies would be given a drink. A concerned frown played over her round face as she drew the tray of yoghurt-potted seedlings towards her. 'I hope it's not too cold for you,' she murmured. A painstaking week had been spend getting the young pansies used to the harsher environment of the garden. Tremors went up inside her every time she left a cluster of plants in the shade of the outer porch for the first time. It made her nervous, not being able to care for the babies as she used to, keeping them safe in her room, protected from the elements.

'It's a tough place to survive out here,' she sighed, easing the first pansy and the soil moulded to it from the pot, with the aid of a trowel, and into the shallow ditch she had made. She hadn't always realised this. Her father had given her enough leeway in learning to make her own mistakes. The first flowers she had moved from greenhouse to garden hadn't survived the transfer. It was a while before Rory Weaver gently introduced the idea of acclimatisation to her. 'I want you to stick it through though, okay?' She patted down the soil around the pansy's young roots, tucking it snugly into its new bed, her hands feeling nicely warm though immersed in cool soil. 'You're going to grow up to be so beautiful.' She smiled at the encouraging prospect, then picked up the seed packet she kept in the tray alongside the potted seedlings. 'Like this, see?' she grinned, showing the picture on the packet to the newly transplanted pansy. The flowers displayed bore splaying petals primarily in a rich goldenrod, with some in deep violet peeking from behind. From the centre of the petals that same violet colour bled like Indian ink, forming what looked to Sprig like a shadowing face set in a glowing mane. Sprig loved pansies; they always appeared to her like tiny, but ferocious, wild cats.

She proceeded to plant the rest of the congregated seedlings, slowly and painstakingly, with warm and gentle hands, whispering words of comfort and encouragement to her charges all the while. The promised rain had started pattering down when she had reached the last few. Sprig sniffed slightly, but didn't hesitate in ploughing on. The sooner her flowers were in the soil, the sooner they could all enjoy a nice long drink... 'I'm sorry the water's a bit colder than what you're used to...' she sighed apologetically as she uncupped her hands to release a seedling and its soil into the trench. 'Stretch your roots down deep, now,' she told it earnestly. 'Get a good hold. I gave the ground a good watering, it should be nice and moist for you... Is that all right? Hm?'

A call from the back door reached her as she was finishing the batch. 'Are you about done now, little Sprig? We're going to start on dinner.'

'Okay Dad, I'll just be a minute.'

'It's started to come down quite a bit out here,' Rory noticed. 'You're not getting too wet, are you? Or too cold?'

'I'm fine,' she assured him, resisting the urge to wipe at her running nose.

He didn't fret at her further. 'Chicken and pasta all right for dinner?'

'Yummy!'

'Come in soon then, sweetpea, and remember to wash your hands.'

'You don't like soil in your pasta, Dad?' Sprig grinned.

'It goes better with worms, dear,' he chortled, which prompted an amused cry of 'Don't give her ideas!' from within.

Sprig did wash her hands, which turned out to be just as well, not just for the sake of a dirt-free pasta dish, but also because she was given over to a bout of coughing and sneezing soon that evening. The traces of a cold were gone by morning, after a mug of hot, sweet tea and an early night, but it had Alana and Rory slightly bemused. It must have been sheer chance; damp weather never affected their daughter like that.

* * *

'Yuck.'

'Oh, don't be silly, turnips are-'

'Yuck.'

'Ach, ya need yer neeps, wee bairn!' Rory exclaimed in that rumbling Scots brogue he could still ham up from time to time.

'I hate the neeps and the neeps hate me,' Sprig replied mildly, removing tumblers from the dishwasher and placing them on the draining board. 'Whenever I try and eat them, they just fight their way back up again. They revolt against me- they're revolting! Die, turnips, die!' She commanded with great gusto, darting to her father's side and casting her hands toward the vegetables being chopped as if in hope to disintegrate them with willpower alone.

Rory glanced amusedly at her as he sliced- 'Ach, away wi- ARGH!' -right down on his thumb. 'Bleedin' fool!' he cursed himself.

'Dad, I'm sorry!' Sprig cried, aghast.

'No, no, pet, I'm just so clumsy-'

'I distracted you,' she said dismally. 'H-here, let me-' It didn't look too deep, she realised as she pulled her father's large hand towards her with her own small ones. Quickly, she pulled a tissue from the box on the counter and pressed it to the weeping cut. She made sure to press down firmly, quite sure that the pressure would stem the bleeding... More than anything else, Sprig just wanted to unto the damage she had done. Her fingers, nestled in the white tissue as it began to turn red, were warm as they pressed down. The feeling of warmth startled Rory; it felt more like further blood-spread.

'Sprig, take your hand away.' Hastily he removed the tissue to see if further damage had occurred, while Sprig looked on anxiously. Two sets of eyebrows shot up. The blood was still seeping through the tissue, but it was nowhere else. It had apparently been wiped away from the cut when Rory had pulled back the tissue. Only now there was no cut either. 'What happened?' he breathed softly.

His daughter shook her head slowly, perplexed. Silence ensued, during which Sprig returned to the dishwasher, and Rory disposed of the tissue and resumed chopping. He was taking much more care, now, and therefore allowed his concentration to fudge out notice of what time was passing. But it was a good few minutes later before Sprig spoke up. 'Dad,' she murmured. 'I'm a bit tired. Would it be okay if I went to bed for a bit?'

Under any other circumstances Rory probably would have accused her of trying to weasel out of unloading the dishwasher, but she really did sound tired. 'All right. Mum or I'll a shout when dinner's ready, okay?' She nodded and left, snuffling a little and rubbing at her nose as she traipsed upstairs.

She came down again for dinner, but didn't last long through it, looking for all the world like she might doze off with her face in the turnips. After she had made an attempt at the meal, her parents let her off the hook and sent her off for another early night. Alana brought her some tea and Lem-sip for the cough that was returning.

* * *

'She's had colds before, but nothing this...'

'Sporadic?'

Alana nodded. She and Rory were sitting together watching a sitcom rerun. The volume was currently turned down so they could speak during the adverts.

'I mean, she's a healthy girl for the most part,' Alana rejoined, traces of doubt slithering their way into her voice. 'You wouldn't think anything abnormal-'

'Alana,' Rory said suddenly, deciding to tell her. 'Something strange happened earlier, before the cold.'

'Strange?'

'But good,' Rory ammended quickly, a tentative smile forming on his rosy face. 'I cut myself while I was chopping vegetables, and-'

'Rory, you need to take more care-' his wife started to chide him, but he went on:

'And she pressed a tissue to the cut, and when I took it away, it was gone.'

Alana's brow furrowed. 'The tissue was g-'

'The cut was gone!' he explained. 'Completely vanished, just like that. All she had done was put a hand to it.' His smile was widening to an excited beam. 'Do you know what this means?'

Alana was staring forward to the television, her expression indiscernible. The adverts had ended and the programme was back on, but she no longer had any interest in it. She was still trying to absorb what Rory was telling her. And it started to dawn on her exactly what this must mean.

'Our little girl is a miracle-worker!' Rory concluded in hushed glee.

'Rory...' Alana said, her tone carrying more foreboding than joy. 'Our little girl is a mutant.'

There was a pregnant pause during which the smile on Rory's face became both fixed and faded as he processed the startling revelation. It seemed to catch him off guard more than his discovery had done for Alana. But after that one moment, the confident grin relaxed his lips once more. 'But it's all right, Alana, she's not dangerous. She never could be! If her power is just something as harmless as healing, well then we have nothing to worry-'

'But what if it isn't?' Alana put in soberly. 'What if this is only part of her powers, what if they develop and there's more to them? She's still young, and this is only the first we've seen of them...'

'She's still young!' Rory barked triumphantly, half standing now. At a concerned look from his wife, he lowered his voice again. 'Mutant powers don't, you know, show up until puberty, and Sprig's not-'

'Just because she's not a teenager,' Alana interrupted again, 'doesn't mean she hasn't started puberty. She's certainly the first, or at least one of the first in her class to- start maturing. That time of the month and all that.' She laughed slightly out of awkwardness, and shook her head. 'Kids always learn the facts of life at her age, but we don't really expect things to start happening until... a little further on down the line. She's still just a child,' she sighed, wisps of forlorn lacing her motherly voice. 'She's not in a great hurry to grow up, but her body's just rushing right along...' She looked up at her husband to find staring back at her with an expression in his eyes somewhere between disbelief, worry, and her own sense of loss. 'So you see she really could be a mutant.'

'S-so... So supposing she is,' he said hoarsely, still not sounding willing to accept it. 'What do we do?'

'The rational thing,' said Alana, trying to insert some decisiveness back into her tone. 'We take her to a doctor. We need to have something done about that cold, anyway.'

* * *

**A/N: **I don't think it's necessary for me to repeat that reviews are welcome... except that I just did. Hum. Well, anyway, if you survived to the end of this chapter, I'm very grateful for your time! Peace out!


	3. The Lucky Ones

**Disclaimer: **With the exception of the boyfriend and his ex, who just aren't terribly important, I own no one in this chapter. Sniffle

**A/N: **This story is slow moving because it takes me a while to get inspired (I'm working on it) so apologies if you're actually keeping up with it. The comic canons I'm introducing will probably be departures from the personalities established in the comics, because, deprived individual that I am (that's deprived with an I, not and A), I don't read the comics.

**Plea: **If you review after reading this, I'll be extremely grateful. I've no other certain way to tell what I'm doing wrong, or, if I should be so lucky, what I'm doing right. Peace out folks!

* * *

The Lucky Ones

'It's looking dire,' Taylor sighed to his sympathetic girlfriend. 'And if I get substituted in, I'll get mauled as well. What's the use wanting to help when I know it won't work?' A soft hand ran through his hair and came to rest at the back of his neck. Taylor looked up at its owner with a grateful smile. He was so lucky to have Jenna, he decided. No one could be more supportive than her. She had always been there for him, and had even taken on the post of equipment manager of the basketball team just to keep him company while he sat on the bench.

'Taylor,' she said tenderly, 'you're a star. The coach knows it, and that's why he'll put you in the game any time now. And that's why you'll be terrific.'

It was a minute or two before the substitution took place. The coach nodded toward Taylor, who steeled himself, trying to take heart from Jenna's words, and stood up. Jenna rose next to him, and swiftly leant in to give him a brief, but deep and affectionate, kiss. He broke away, with an awkward grin on his face that acknowledged his struggle not to look too pleased.

'For luck,' she cooed, and waved him off as he dashed out onto the court.

Jennifer Stavros was, by many accounts, a very lucky girl. In the looks department, she was blessed with a shining mane of curly, dark blonde hair, tanned skin, and a lithe figure. As far as grades went, she always got by without too much trouble on her part. But the success of her social life was almost ridiculous. The powerful, the beautiful, and just those she thought were a good kick, somehow always ended up drifting towards her. Those suspicious or, more often, jealous, of her success swore that she must have done some nudging to cause everything to fall into place for her. But they had a hard time pinning anything specific on her.

Take her current boyfriend, Taylor Lloyd. How could she have been the cause in any way of the things that went wrong in his previous relationship with Colette Phelps? But frustratingly impossible as it was, it had to be noted that the long-lasting relationship didn't have as much trouble before that Stavros girl set her sights on Taylor. From that time on, Colette somehow managed to botch every little thing.

Tripping in the cafeteria whenever Taylor came into sight. Jennifer was always around then, but never near enough to stick out a foot or issue a shove.

Continually bumping into people. Stubbing her toes. Dropping things. Jennifer was never far away from any of these instances. Never knowing the answers to the questions she was asked in the classes she had with Jennifer. It was as if her mere presence was enough to unnerve Colette into loosing her cool.

These minor imperfections might not have bothered a devoted boyfriend like Taylor, but he did start to become irked when Colette started to arrive progressively late for their dates. A few times she didn't make it at all. She wretchedly claimed a run of bad luck that prevented her from being on time, but Taylor, being human, was highly sceptical of that excuse. No one's luck could be that bad. When, after some weeks of this behaviour, he broke it off with Colette, his reasoning was that deep down, she had surely had enough of him, and hence was pushing him away. It must have been very deep down, because she denied it hysterically and burst into tears every time she saw Taylor for days after.

All Jennifer had ever done, as far as anyone could tell, was flick the occasional elastic band or balled-up gum wrapper at Colette. The teachers had reprimanded her for childish behaviour. She let up on it as soon as Colette had been dumped.

* * *

'You're evil, you know,' Sharon grinned at her friend. 'That poor boy still thinks you're the best thing that's ever happened to him.'

Jennifer had just emerged from the gym wearing a satisfied smirk. Their team had not only recovered during that game, but also won staggeringly, apparently thanks to Taylor, but more likely thanks to her. Sharon's affirmations only lifted her spirits further. 'Well, I am,' she replied lightly. 'He doesn't know how lucky he is to have me.'

Sharon groaned and rolled her eyes. 'Enough with the puns, Roulette.' Sharon Smith was one of the few friends Jennifer had gained without 'stacking the odds.' They were of like kind, and helped each other a great deal, though mostly outside of school and all its social spheres. As far as the high school population was concerned, Sharon was an odd sort of girl that Jennifer only hung around with because she was 'a laugh.' They also incorrectly assumed that her hair was that light lavender colour because she dyed it.

'It's good practice, all this social experimenting that I do,' Jennifer went on conversationally, though her voice dropped several notches. 'I'm testing the limits of my powers. And learning that I can use them to manipulate people... given enough time and planning. Maybe not as effective as what Manny can do, but hey, whoever said I'd be working with him forever? I've got the skills to go it alone someday.'

'And modest to boot,' chuckled Sharon.

'I'm not kidding, you know,' Jennifer was now whispering. 'Who wants to be tied down to the Hellions? I don't intend to get stuck as a pawn for-'

Sharon had turned a startled stare on her friend at the mention of the Hellions, and was now frantically shushing her. 'Jenna! Not here, not here- what are you thinking?'

'Thoughts nowhere near as paranoid as yours,' Jennifer threw back with raised eyebrows. 'People have better things to do than eavesdrop on us, Sharon.'

'You're overconfident,' Sharon sighed, suddenly looking tired and worried. 'And when that gets you into trouble, I hope your luck can get you out.'

'Confidence and luck!' Jennifer said with mock anxiety. 'Oh, however will I make it in the world?'

Sharon was saved replying when Taylor appeared, fresh from the changing rooms and wearing the glow of victory. Spotting his favourite girl, he grinned and trotted over. Following Sharon's gaze, Jennifer showed off her own dazzling smile when she caught sight of her sweetheart. 'Darling!' she squealed, throwing her arms around him. 'You were wonderful!'

Taylor waved a hello to Sharon before planting a loving kiss on Jennifer's cheek. 'Couldn't have done it without you, Jenna. You always manage to bring out the best in me.'

* * *

'Rogue, wait up!'

'If you're gonna ask for a ride,' Rogue sighed, swivelling around to face Kitty, 'kindly bear in mind that I'll be dropping by the art school first.' She gave her a pointed look, but Kitty just smiled at her and didn't seem to pick up on the hint. 'And going to a lecture.' Still nothing. 'For an hour.'

'I don't need to go anywhere,' Kitty shrugged good-naturedly. 'I just...' The sunny facade seemed to melt for a moment, and gave Rogue a brief glimpse of some unsettled emotion lurking beneath. 'I just need to get out of the mansion for a while.'

Kitty had her troubles too, Rogue realised, and her gaze softened a little. They were more related to a certain few men in her life than anything particularly earth-shattering, but that didn't make them unimportant.

'I wouldn't want to butt in on your class or anything,' she added quickly; 'maybe I could just hang around campus?'

'Whatever suits ya,' Rogue replied with an affected tone of disinterest, and waved a hand to motion her friend to follow her to the car.

The college was local enough to subway or bus to; those routes required being walked part of the way, and while Rogue didn't usually mind this, perpetual downpours such as was the weather's speciality today made it a whole lot less desirable. Rogue wandered, as they listened to the steady drumbeat of rain of the car roof and the wheels splashed through the surface of water on the road, if the damp was getting Kitty down. The girl was staring complacently out of the window and had not once attempted to strike up any idle chatter.

Maybe she needed the peace.

Maybe she needed to talk.

Maybe she needed _girl_-talk. Rogue shuddered inwardly at the thought. No, she wasn't good at that. But it was just so unnerving, sitting next to Kitty in complete silence. Now that she thought on it, it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

'So what is it with you and Colossus?' she asked abruptly.

Kitty looked at her with an expression somewhere between nervous and grateful. 'Piotr?' she said meekly.

Rogue shook her head tiredly. 'Ah just don't understand why you always fall for the bad uns. Is it because you're so good and all that, you need a balance?'

'Piotr's not bad,' Kitty said quietly. 'And he definitely isn't anything like Lance.'

'Good, one of him's enough,' murmured Rogue.

'And just because Piotr never joined the X-Men doesn't mean he isn't on our side.'

Rogue chanced giving her a sidelong glance before returning her eyes to the road. 'And are you so sure that he -is- on our side?' This resulted in a longer pause than Rogue would have expected. 'Kitty?'

'He's good,' she said quietly. 'I mean, he cares so much for his sister, and...'

'Kitty, Ah cain't tell if you're trying to explain him to me or to yourself.'

'I've... I've been wrong before, you know? I used to think that Lance... really cared. Sometimes I still do.' She was staring steadily at her knees now, shame creeping into her voice and onto her face. 'It felt like he wanted to help me, only he couldn't. Or wouldn't. And now with Piotr... I want to help him but I don't know how.'

'Give yourself some credit, Kit,' Rogue told her firmly. 'You're smart. But no one's smart enough to figure out _that_ whole gender.'

'I dunno,' Kitty answered with the trace of a smile, 'Jean, maybe?'

'Telepathy's cheating,' said Rogue without hesitation. Then, 'Say, why're you talking to me about this, anyway, when you could talk to her?'

'You started the conversation,' Kitty pointed out.

'You asked to come with me,' Rogue retorted.

'I talk to her sometimes,' Kitty sighed after a moment's thought. 'But I'm starting to think she can't remember a time before she and Scott were happily joined at the hip. It's getting to be enough to make me very slightly bitter.'

'So if Ah get a boyfriend you won't vent at me anymore?'

'I guess. Well, unless it's Gambit, 'cause-'

A faint flush of scarlet struck Rogue in the cheeks. 'It won't be,' she growled.

* * *

By the time they reached the art school and were pulling into a parking space, Rogue wondered if maybe quiet Kitty was preferable to chatty Kitty after all.

'Doesn't look like it's going to let up, does it?' Kitty remarked, indicating the rain.

'Maybe we should give Storm a call,' added Rogue, dubiously eyeing the unsheltered distance to the door of the building. 'Are ya gonna come in, or will ya be staying where it's dry?'

'Hm, tough choice- Oh, wait a minute,' Kitty exclaimed with the air of one remembering an ace up her sleeve. 'Am I Shadowcat or am I Shadowcat? Come on.'

And she got out of the car. Rogue stared at her, walking through the rain to the other side of the car and looking remarkably pleased with herself. Before Rogue could comment upon her friend's sanity, Kitty's hand shot through the closed door, grabbed her arm and phased her through. Now standing outside, still in Kitty's grasp, and starting to severely doubt Kitty's desire to remain uninjured as well, Rogue was suddenly surprised to note that she was completely dry.

'Oh. Phasing through the rain,' she realised without much enthusiasm. 'Clever. You oughta be careful though, if anyone saw-'

'Run like you're getting soaked, then,' grinned Kitty, and they both sprinted up the path, Rogue grumbling something about the locking mechanism and how Kitty's powers better not have messed with it.

It didn't occur to them that someone nearby might have stayed in his car to avoid the rain.

* * *

Waiting outside the door an hour later for the lecture to finish, Kitty suddenly found her thoughts interrupted by a door opening and then closing- not especially loudly but, in the stifled corridor, very audibly. A young man came striding into view a moment later. He was rather tall, and Kitty felt her heart flutter for an irrational instant in which her mind jumped to Colossus. But the boy that appeared was Native American, with coarse black hair tied back into a loose tail, and sharp, stern features than nevertheless looked as though they would lend him a kind smile. He came to a halt next to Kitty, who looked at him in slight confusion until she remembered the art class that was about to come out. Not wanting to seem like she was staring, she quickly offered him a smile.

'Waiting for someone too?'

'A friend of mine, yes,' he replied, his voice deep and resounding but kept to a hush outside the lecture room.

'Still wet out?' she asked absentmindedly, noting a faint glimmer of raindrops on his skin and hair.

'Drizzling.'

'Ah.' He was almost as good a conversationalist as Rogue usually was. Kitty was just struggling to think of something friendly or intelligent to say when the classroom door opened and a lone student swept out, head bent forward with her length of lank, dark brown hair swinging forward to hide her face, and a small stack of notebooks clutched to her chest; body language that said she wanted out, and fast. Kitty peered sympathetically after her retreating back. 'She looks like she could use a hug,' she remarked to the boy, who to her utter surprise promptly turned from her and started to follow the art student. 'Wait! I didn't mean-'

'Ange,' he called out, and Kitty quickly subsided into a pink-cheeked state of social awkwardness.

* * *

The student named Ange only acknowledged her friend so much as to glance briefly behind her before continuing to stride ahead. He caught up to her on the path outside and began speaking in a low voice.

'You're allowed to act as if you know me, Tarot.'

She ignored the comment. 'I thought you were waiting in the car?' she muttered in her light French accent.

'There was a girl I wanted to check out.'

This was enough to make Tarot glance at him, eyebrows raised. 'That's not like you, James.'

'Not like that,' he assured her mildly. 'She's a mutant.'

Yet another surprise; this time the girl didn't let her tone betray that fact. 'How can you tell?' she asked lightly.

'She can go through solid objects; just phase right through, and lend that power to others as well. I saw her from in the parking lot, melting through a car door, then pulling her friend through as well.'

'Friend?' Tarot's interest was evidently piqued.

'And I took a closer look at her inside just now,' James went on. 'They both ran inside when the rain was at its heaviest, that would have been enough to soak anyone-'

'No kidding,' put in Tarot. 'I _still_ haven't dried off.'

'And that girl was bone dry, not a drop of water on her. Her friend is in your art class; brown and white hair, and she wears gloves.'

'Do you think she could be a mutant to?' Tarot asked cautiously.

'It's possible. At the very least, she's not a mutant-hater,' James reasoned. They strode on in silence for a few moments before he suggested, 'I think maybe you should look into the pair of them.'

Tarot snorted with surprise. 'What do you want me to do?' she demanded incredulously. 'Offer them an invite to the next Hellfire Club Ball?'

James shot her a warning look, then glanced about to be sure no one was close enough to hear. The rest of the lecture group was milling out, but he and Tarot were far enough ahead to be safe. 'Just see what you can find out about them,' he urged. 'Try and figure out if they'd be inclined to join our... organisation.'

'That's Black Bishop's territory,' Tarot pointed out. 'White Queen has us trained as muscle, not recruiters.'

'There's nothing to say we can't do both,' James replied, his voice slinking ever further down the range of volume until Tarot had to strain to hear him. 'We'll be helping out Bishop. Moreover, we'll be helping out those girls. Think about where we were before White Queen took us in.'

'We -were- pretty lucky for her to find us,' Tarot consented.

'The sooner we throw them a lifeline,' James continued, 'the better.'

'All right,' Tarot sighed in resignation, 'I'll see what I can do. You'll help me out though, won't you James?'

James smiled and nodded, and rested a grateful hand on his friend's shoulder as they made their way through the parking lot.


End file.
